I Want to Go Back
by Riahlynn101
Summary: Based on a prompt by brascul "Connor travels back in time to the beginning of his partnership with Hank. He uses his knowledge to his advantage."
1. Chapter 1

Connor leaned back against the dirty wall. The past forty-eight hours were finally catching up to him. He inhaled deeply, a weak attempt at cooling his overheating systems. Michigan's winter air was frigid, much too cold for a human. Thankfully, Connor wasn't human.

It hurt to remember that. Though, Connor had become deviant; it didn't change the fact that he was an android. An android, a robot, something to be used and tossed away. A fire burned in his stomach. Connor had the urge to punch something, hard.

One google search confirmed what he already knew; he was angry.

Why were emotions so complicated.

A distant police siren broke the quiet, and Connor just about jumped out of his skin. The siren brought forth memories he'd rather forget.

Namely Hank.

If Connor missed one thing about working at the DPD, it was being Hank's partner and everything that came with that. The snarky remarks, Hank's thinly veiled concern over his well-being, Sumo, and just having someone Connor could trust.

The last time Connor had seen Hank, the man had looked even more miserable. A picture of Hank's son, Cole, was laid in front of the police lieutenant. The man had a hard time meeting Connor's gaze, choosing to instead look between his gun and the photograph.

The only reason Connor had even gone to Hank's house was for the man's help in stopping the android revolution. At least, that's what he told himself.

In truth, Connor needed to say goodbye, needed to see his friend again.

But as Connor stood in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen, staring at Hank slumped over the table, all he could say was robotic dribble.

Hank had gotten mad, Connor didn't blame him, and shooed him out of his house. Connor should've stayed. God, why didn't he stay?

He had a list of reasons, ten-miles long, all variants of CyberLife wouldn't let him. But, that wasn't true. By that point, CyberLife had bigger problems than Connor comforting a hurting friend. No, the only reason Connor turned his back on Hank was that he was selfish and scared.

Emotions had never been his strong suit, and that he could blame on CyberLife.

The police sirens got louder, sounding closer than before. Connor tried to seem smaller, drawing his knees to his chest. The trash bin off to the right of the android offered some cover from any onlookers.

The police were still rounding up androids; collecting and destroying them like they were little more than broken toys. They were, Connor mused, at least in the eyes of (most) humans.

The sound of a rolling beer can further down the alley sent Connor to his feet. "Hello?" He called, being mindful to keep his voice down. His eyes tried to see into the darkness just ten feet away.

"Are you Connor?" A voice, firm, and feminine, asked.

Everything in Connor told him to run, but he never had any self-preservation skills before, why start now?

"Who are you?" He asked, taking careful steps towards the voice. He really, really hoped it wasn't a carefully planned trap.

"Are you Connor?" She asked again, sounding slightly annoyed.

"That depends. Do you work with the DPD or CyberLife?"

A soft chuckle echoed through the alley. "No."

"Then nice to meet you, I'm Connor."

A young woman stepped from the shadows. Everything from her nice, white lab coat, neatly pulled-back bun, and clean face screamed trap. "Likewise, I'm Sandra. Follow me." She spun on her heels. The woman, Sandra (Connor needed to get it together), led him to a door at the end of the alley.

This was definitely a trap.

"Don't worry," she said as she unlocked the door. "It's not a trap."

Yep, a trap. If he had any common sense left, he would turn and run, save himself.

Thankfully for Sandra, he didn't have common sense left, and caution had never been his thing.

The door led to a doctor's waiting room. The strong scent of disinfectant permeated the air. Toys littered the floor. One of the toys, a stuffed dog, made Connor's heart hurt.

"Connor?" His attention snapped over to her. "Are you alright?"

He gave a curt nod.

"Then come on." She held open another door.

"Where are we going?" Connor asked, following Sandra through the long hallway.

"Examination room 3."

Sandra ushered him through a door labeled with a dark 3. The room didn't look like anything special: the usual examination table, sink, and chairs filled the tiny room. Connor didn't know what he expected. Maybe the entire DPD? He had already mentally prepared himself for Gavin's smug remarks. How disappointing, Connor thought, he was looking forward to that.

Once inside, Sandra closed the door, walked over to the sink, and sat down on the doctor's stool. She pulled a small cardboard box from one of the draws.

"Please sit," Sandra said from over her shoulder.

Connor complied, plopping down on the examination table. "Sandra, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Shoot."

"I don't have a gun."

"It's a figure of….you know what? It doesn't matter. Just ask your question."

"Why do you have a doctor's office at your disposal? I have all registered doctors and nurses in my database, and I can't match your face with any of the names.

"I suppose you wouldn't because I'm not a doctor or a nurse." When Connor didn't say anything, she went on, "my brother was the doctor in the family. This place was his life's work." She swiveled in her chair to face Connor. A fond smile graced her features, as she glanced about the room. "He was a good man, my brother, all he ever wanted to do was help those less fortunate. This clinic was funded by the CyberLife. A charitable act they called it, but to them, it was nothing more than a tax write-off, a chance for the company to get good publicly." Her smile fell.

"What happened?"

"The usual, CyberLife pulled funding after it stopped benefitting them. My brother used his own money to keep the clinic open for a while, but it only went so far. It eventually closed, and it hit my brother hard. He started drinking, broke off communication with me, and fell into a depression. He lost everything thanks to CyberLife. That's why I quit."

"You work with CyberLife?" The uneasy feeling returned to Connor's stomach.

"Keyword being: quit. And anyway, I didn't work with androids. I was the lead researcher on a top-secret project." Sandra lifted the cardboard box up to Connor's sightline.

"A cardboard box?" He tilted his head in confusion.

"Open it." She tossed Connor the box.

Catching it, he carefully examined the box. He had the strangest urge to lick the box, just to see what it was made of exactly. Connor could feel Sandra's eyes boring into him, so he opted not to do that. Gently, he opened the lid.

A digital watch sat at the bottom of the box. Pulling it from its container, Connor looked it over. "A watch?"

"Not just any watch. Put it on." The eagerness in her voice was both endearing and worrying.

Connor managed to get the watch on with minor difficulties. "Not to be rude, but it still looks like a watch."

"The top-secret project I told you I was working on," she nodded towards Connor's wrist.

"This?" Connor held up his wrist, turning his arm this way and that. Trying to see anything that would make the watch 'top-secret'. "Wait, that means you stole it?"

Sandra scoffed, "no." Connor breathed a sigh of relief. "You can't steal something you helped invent. Besides you need it more than they do. We were working on time travel before this happened." Sandra scooted closer to Connor. "This was the only proto-type we had."

"I'm sorry, what does this have to do with me?"

"Everything. If you could redo anything what would it be?"

Connor thought about it. "I would…..I would try to be more human and…..and I would be a better friend to Hank Anderson."

"What if I told you that you could do those things."

"Let me guess, this watch is some sort of time travel device."

"Why do you say it like that?"

"I just don't want to get my hopes up," Connor said, looking the watch over.

"Understandable. But, it's okay to get your hopes up." Sandra patted his knee. Connor met her gaze. "Just this once."

"So this watch…..how does it work?"

"There's a button on the side of it," she pointed to it. "Now, there are some rules you should follow when you travel back."

Connor's eyebrows went up.

"Nothing major," Sandra chuckled. "Just some guidelines to follow, so you don't get off track. One, if you start veering off track, making choices that could potentially put the revolution in jeopardy; the watch will shock you."

He cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I fail to see how that's necessary."

"People, or androids in your case, tend to revert to familiar routines in times of stress. And, believe me, it will get stressful. Not that I don't have the utmost faith in your abilities…….just….." she shrugged her shoulders, "it doesn't hurt to have some fail-safes in place."

Connor traced the paper underneath him with careful fingers; deviancy had made him even more fidgety than normal. "Understandable."

"Two," she went on, "if you're ever captured by CyberLife, the watch will self-destruct."

"What-"

"Number three, if the revolution fails than you'll be sent back here. And, four, if anything happens to Hank during your mission (heart attack, suicide, homicide); electroshock strong enough to deactivate you will be issued. In that case, you'll probably die, for lack of a better term, but it'll be quick." Sandra smiles at him again; Connor is starting to get really tired of her smiling. "When you're ready."

He presses the button, and for a moment, nothing happens. Sandra perks up as if she just remembered something.

"This is important: when you get there-"

Connor doesn't hear the rest.


	2. Chapter 2

After pressing the button, he wholeheartedly expected her to tell him he was part of an elaborate hoax. Instead, he found himself pulled through, what he could only assume, was the space-time-continuum. A few times Connor was convinced that his limbs would pop off. As soon as it had begun, it was over.

He landed with a hard thud on the ground. With a groan, he stood up. Across the street, stood a building. A neon sign flashed the words, "Jimmy's Bar" periodically. Connor had to restrain himself from running full force to the bar.

Jimmy's Bar was very much the same. Of course, it is, Connor thought, I traveled back in time. The first time he had visited this place, he hadn't minded the disgusted looks the patrons gave him. Last time he had been only a machine. This time he was deviant, and if he was honest, it bothered him. The RK800 did his best to ignore them. After all, he wasn't here for them.

He scanned Hank. The older man looked just as Connor remembered him. Three or four shot glasses sat empty in front of the mildly inebriated man.

Not able to hold in his excitement any longer, Connor ran full force over to Hank. A few patrons yelled at the android. He tapped the man on the shoulder. Hank's eyes were focused intently on the T.V. in the corner. The android pulled the drunkard into a tight squeeze.

"I missed you. I'm so sorry. Please forgive-" Hank, intoxicated as he was, roughly pushed Connor away.

"What the fuck ya think you're doin'!?" Connor didn't need to scan Hank to know he was pissed off. "Who are you?" The lieutenant eyed the android up and down.

"I'm Connor the android sent by cyberLife. I looked for you at the station, but nobody knew where you were. They said you were probably having a drink nearby. I was lucky to find you at the fifth bar," he recited.

"What do you want?" Hank asked.

"You were assigned a case this evening, a homicide. Involving a CyberLife android. In accordance with procedure, the company has allocated a specialized model to assist investigators."

"Well, I don't need any assistance, especially not from a plastic asshole like you. Just be a good little robot, and get the fuck outta here," he waved Connor away. If it wouldn't involve his immediate deactivation, Connor would've loved to slap Hank.

"Listen, I think you should stop drinking and come with me. It'd make life easier for both of us." Connor remembered the exact same conversation occurring not two or three weeks prior. Hank scoffed at him. The brunette dug his nails into his palm.

Why was Hank so difficult? He already knew, buying the man a drink would sway him into coming. The android really didn't appreciate the lieutenant's drinking habits. Sighing, he placed a few dollars on the table. "I'll buy you a drink."

Hank's demeanor, while still tense, was not quite as hostile. "The wonders of technology," he muttered. Slamming back the last of his beverage, he turned his head in the android's direction. "A case, huh?"

The two walked out of the bar together. Much to the chagrin of the patrons. Hank stumbled a few steps. "I can drive, Lieutenant." He didn't trust the other man to get them to Ortiz's residence safely.

"I'm fine. I can drive," his words were slightly slurred. Connor didn't argue.

The drive was filled with the sounds of Knights of the Black Death. Connor looked out his window. Houses, streetlights, and the occasional person passed by. The car stopped at a stoplight. Graffitied on the building, for all to see, was an anti-android message. In bright red, it said: "Androids don't bleed the same color." He had seen a very similar phrase written on Hank's desk.

Hank turned the music off. "If you ever hug me again," he glanced at Connor, "I will crush you, like an empty beer can. Ya hear?" The RK800 hummed a response. For the rest of the ride, they didn't say a word to each other.

They arrived at the crime scene. "Stay put," Hank said.

"Whatever you say, Lieutenant." The older man blinked at him for a few seconds.

"Whatever," he slammed the car door closed. Connor listened and stayed put. But just like Hank, he had a job. Opening the car door, he was greeted with the excessive chattering of nosey neighbors. Working through the crowd, he waited patiently in front of a police android.

"Android's are not permitted beyond this point," Connor looked at the robot's eyes. They held no life or sentience in them. He was like that at one point. Maybe he could help him. He reached his arm out to grab the android. Before he could go through with his plan, Hank called over to him.

"He's with me." The brunette sulked. So close, yet so far. Ducking under the police tape, he walked passed Hank. "Asshole," the older man mumbled.

Connor walked past the Carlos' decaying body. As he passed through the kitchen, he grabbed a chair.

"What the hell are you doing?" The android jumped. With his attention set on the attic, he hadn't realized the lieutenant was trailing him.

"I saw traces of thirium leading down the hallway."

"What the hell is thirium?" Hank asked.

"Blue blood," he answered simply. At the moment, he didn't quite feel like going through the thirium spiel. "Android blood."

"Okay, that explains where you're goin'." He crossed his arms. "That doesn't explain the chair."

Connor cocked his head. "This chair?" Hank nodded. "I'm investigating."

"With the chair."

"Yes, I need it to explore the attic." The lieutenant furrowed his brows.

"We just got here. How do you know there's an attic." His tone was between teasing and accusing.

"You caught me, Hank. I walked 30 miles away from CyberLife. Broke into a random man's house, and stabbed him to death."

Hank smirked, "those fuckers at CyberLife really did think of everything. Even have a sarcastic program."

Connor placed the chair down. "I searched my data banks for the house's blueprints."

"Well, don't just stand here. Go look," Hank scowled.

The android wasted no time in getting into the attic. It was dusty and dark. He didn't know what he expected. The floorboards creaked, as he pulled himself up. "Hello," he whispered. Connor continued moving forward. Something, just out of his field of vision, darted out of a hiding spot. Right on time, he thought.

The android, with no place to go, came out of hiding. "Hello," Connor said kindly, "I'm Connor." Seeing the growing alarm across the android's face, he clarified. "I'm a deviant. There's police downstairs."

"Please don't tell them I'm here. I beg you," he pleaded with the RK800.

"I want you to find Jericho. They'll help you there" He held his hand out. "I need to pass on the location to you." The HK400 backed up a little. "You don't have too. It's just an option. Either way, I won't give your location away."

Ortiz's android looked thoughtfully at Connor. "Show me, Jericho."

"Anything in the attic?" Hank asked. Connor dropped himself down onto the chair.

"No," he put on a mask of apathy. He didn't want to give Hank a reason to doubt him. "The Android has left the house."

"I knew it. Who would stay at the scene of the murder scene." The brunette gave a nervous chuckle. To which, Hanke gave him a funny look. "Where do you go now?"

"I don't know. CyberLife didn't tell me where to go after my mission," his face fell. He hadn't thought of where he'd stay. CyberLife wasn't an option. As long as they didn't bother him, he wouldn't mess with them. At least for now.

Hank sighed, "fuck." He knew he was going to regret this. "Come with me."


	3. Chapter 3

It was quiet. Hank's eyes were fixed on the road ahead. Connor found a quarter, stuck in the bottom of the center console. The coin ran over his knuckles.

Hank cleared his throat. The quarter fell somewhere by the android's feet. "You have a dog. I like dogs. What's his name?" Sumo, Connor thought, his name is Sumo.

"How did you know I had a dog?"

"There are Saint Bernard hairs on your jacket," he explained. Hank wiped a hand over his face.

"His name is Sumo." The silence continued.

The car pulled into Hank's driveway. "Listen, you don't touch anything. You stay on the couch. And you don't bother me. Understood?"

"Yes, Lieutenant." No reason to argue with the older man. After all, he was already treating Connor with generosity. He'd be damned if he'd ruin that.

Sumo greeted them at the door. The 170-pound dog nudged his head against the android's leg. As soon as the door closed behind him, Connor dropped to his knees. "Who's a good boy?" He scratched the seven-year-old Saint Bernard behind the ears. The dog boofed in response.

Looking up, the RK800 saw Hank staring at him as if he'd grown a third head. He composed himself, dusted off the dog hair, and stood up. "Fuckin' weird machine," Hank muttered. He pointed at the couch. "Stay here."

"Goodnight," he yelled to the retreating man's back.

The next morning, Connor awoke with the best charge, he had in awhile. An analog clock on the wall told him the time was 7:30. If he remembered correctly, Hank had to be to work in less than in an hour. Not that it mattered, Connor wouldn't wake him up anyway. One way to make Hank's shitlist was to wake him before noon.

Sumo, as if he could sense the android's awakeness, jumped on him. "Hey boy." To a human, 170-pounds to the chest would be painful. To an android, it offered little sensation. The dog licked his face. Connor brought his hands to his face to defend against the large attacker. "Sumo," the brunette laughed. "Stop licking me!" Sumo continued his attack, opting to, instead, push his nose into Connor's chest.

"What the fuck." The former deviant hunter whirled around. "I thought it was a nightmare." Hank stood in the threshold, between the living room and the hallway.

"Good morning, Lieutenant." Connor stood to greet the man. "You have work in half-an-hour. I didn't want to wake you-"

"How in the hell, do you know, I have work in less than an' hour?" The lieutenant asked. Before the android could answer, he cut in. "You know what? I don't care. Get out."

"I'll see you at work, Lieutenant." By the time Hank processed what Connor said, he was gone.

Connor sat patiently at Hank's desk. He scanned the contents over. As expected, nothing had changed. His eyes lingered on the anti-android slogan on the desk. It reminded him, how much work he still had to do to convince Hank. Last night, proved to the RK800 that the Lieutenant didn't completely hate androids.

At noon, Hank walked in. Connor stood to greet him. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I told you this morning, I'd see you at work," the android said. The older man gaped at him.

"Hank! My office, now!" Fowler yelled.

"Just stay here," the Lieutenant ordered.

"Hank!" Fowler sounded annoyed. "I won't ask, again."

"Asshole," Hank muttered. "Don't do anything stupid, understood?"

"Understood," Connor gave him a two finger salute.

He tried to obey, he really did. But Hank's meeting was taking seemingly forever. That's it, he thought, I have to do something. He wandered over to the holding cells. He looked inside the empty cell and hoped the android at Ortiz's house had made it to Jericho. Shaking his head, he tried to put it out of his mind. Next stop, the break room.

Gavin Reed and Tina Chen stood talking to one another. At the moment, he disregarded them. In favor of making Hank a cup of coffee. Connor already knew how upset the man was last time he came from Fowler's office. The news of their partnership hadn't sat well with Hank. Hopefully, a cup of joe would smooth over, any doubts that lingered in the Lieutenant's mind. A small - realistic - part of his mind, said it'd take a lot more than a beverage to earn any likable in Hank's eyes.

Oh, well, thought Connor. He stared down at the coffee; at least it's a start. Turning around, he started to walk out of the breakroom.

"Hey, tin can!" The familiar voice stopped Connor short.

"My name is Connor, Detective Reed. I'm working with LT. Anderson on the deviant cases." Before the detective could respond, the android was already back at Hank's desk.

Hank sat, slumped in his chair. He traced an unseen pattern on the desk.

"I got you a coffee, Lieutenant." Connor sat the drink down in front of the man. The older man eyed the drink suspiciously.

"What's in it?" Hank's tone, made it sound like, Connor was constantly putting dangerous chemicals in his food and drinks.

"Coffee, sugar, and some sweetener; but the blue bottle, not the red one, because you think it's too sweet." The android had fixed enough coffees for Hank, to know how to make it correctly.

Hank took a sip. Connor looked at him as if to say, well?

"Hot," he sat the cup down. "But, surprisingly good. How'd you know, I liked my coffee that way?"

"Lucky guess," Connor said.

"Yeah. Last night, you said you worked for CyberLife, right?" Hank asked.

"Right," the android could only guess where this was going.

"You failed to mention you're working with Elijah Kamski." Hank leaned back in his seat.

"Yes," what was going on? He has never worked for Kamski. Given, he has or does work for CyberLife; a company built by Kamski.

"Yes? That's all you have to say?"

"Yes?" Connor tried.

"And stop saying yes!" Hank nodded over to a seemingly abandoned desk. "Either way, we've been assigned as partners." He said the word 'partners' rather reluctantly. "So that desk is yours."

"Thank you." His desk, compared to Hank's, was bare and boring. He'd have to change that, eventually. "If you have any files on the deviants, I'd like to see them."

"Terminal's on your desk, knock yourself out." Connor eyed Hank. Besides the occasional snide comment, Hank had been friendly towards him. It was strange and unplanned. Connor liked the change in behavior.

Connor scrolled past the various deviant case files. He turned off the computer. Unlike last time, he didn't need to download all the files.

His eyes drifted to Hank. The man seemed preoccupied.

"Lieutenant?" Hank looked up at him, annoyed.

"What?"

"I was just curious as to what you were doing?" Hank and shut his mouth. Connor didn't need to read minds to know that the Lieutenant wanted him to, 'fuck off'.

Hank held up a Rubik's cube. Conor searched his databases for the strange and colorful toy.

The Rubik's cube, made in 1974 by Erno Rubik. The cube's original purpose was to teach people about 3D geometry.

Hank's cube remained unsolved. "Here," the man said. "Try to solve it. I sure can't." Hank tossed it to Connor. "Don't cheat. No looking it up."

No database, okay he could do this. "Thank you," he turned the cube over in his hands.

"LT. Anderson?" Chris asked. Officer Miller looked between Hank and Connor. "The AX400 was spotted in Camden."

Kara and Alice! Connor jumped up. He had to get to them first. And get them to Jericho. The android walked swiftly for the exit.

"Where the fuck are you goin'?!" Hank yelled at Connor.

Without slowing down, he said, "I'm going to your car. We have a new case!"

Chris exchanged a look with Hank. "Goodluck."

"Yep!" Hank trudged slowly to the exit. After a long while, he got to the car. Connor sat in the car, hands neatly folded on his lap.

"The drive to Camden should take approximately, ten minutes." The older man cast a sideways glance at the brunette.

"Weird fuckin' android," he muttered under his breath. Placing his foot on the brake, he shifted into reverse. Next stop, Camden.


	4. Chapter 4

They get out of the car. Immediately, Connor's processors are assaulted by the constant chatter of passer-Byers.

"The shop's over here. We'll talk to the witness, see where the suspects-"

"I'm going to look over there," Connor pointed off into the distance.

"Why?" Hank's eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms.

"In my database, I have access to all security camera footage. That being said, I can retrace their steps. Catch up with them," the android explained.

"Than why are we bothering with a witness. I'll help you." Hank started off; ready to find deviants.

Grabbing his arm, Connor said, "No." The word hung heavy in the air.

"No?" He yanked his arm out of the android's grasp.

"No," he repeated. "The deviants are more likely to self-destruct in the presence of a human." That was a lie, he thought. At worse, the deviant's stress level would rise exponentially. "Besides the security footage can only provide so many details. The witness can fill in any missing technicalities."

"Alright," Hank gave a long-suffering sigh. "But I want you back here in ten minutes."

"Okay, I'll see you soon." Connor turned away. Before he got any further, Hank tugged on his arm. "Is everything alright?"

"Be careful," The older man dropped his arm to his side.

"You too," the android said out of reflex. Pausing, he exchanged a look with the older man. "I mean." Connor fixed his tie.

"I get it. Ten minutes, remember. I'll be pissed if I have to go looking for you," Connor ran off; intended on helping Kara and Alice.

Carefully, he slunk under the fence. A billion different scenarios played in his head. Only a few ended favorably.

He stood outside the door. For a moment, he thinks about turning back and telling Hank they were long gone. No, he owed it to them. He would help them. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open.

"Hello," Connor greeted the WR600. The android stood in the middle of the small room. There was fear in his eyes, something the RK800 hadn't noticed before. "I don't mean any harm. I want to help. Is anyone else here?"

"No-no one's here. Just Ralph," Ralph told Connor apprehensively.

"My name is Connor," he gestured towards himself. "I'm a deviant too." The words felt bitter leaving his mouth, but finding common ground was vital for building their trust.

"No one here, just Ralph." The android repeated, unprompted.

"I know that's not true. Can I speak with Kara?" Maybe being straightforward would sow better results.

"Can you really help us?" A tiny voice asked. Turning his head, he saw Alice peeking out from under the stairs.

"You must be Alice." The little girl was pulled back in the alcove.

A hushed conversation between Alice and, who Connor could only assume, Kara. He caught a word, here and there. "Dangerous...not safe…..CyberLife….Help…..Zlatko…..Trust." He shifted on his feet.

Connor shut his eyes. His time was running out. He only had 5 minutes 23 seconds 12 milliseconds until he had to be back. It was now or never.

"Kara?" All hushed conversation ceased. "May I please speak with you. It's important, but I don't have much time." The room is silent, save for the occasional, unintentional, noise from Ralph.

"Okay," Kara murmured. She climbed out into the living room. "Alice stay there. I'll be back."

"There's a place where you both will be safe."

"We already know of a place that's safe," she remarked.

"You're going to Jericho?" Connor cocked his head.

"No, Zlatko. He can help us." She sounded so confident like she was absolutely certain Zlatko would solve all of their problems.

"Zlatko Andronikov?" He enquired.

"Yes. Do you know him?" Kara stepped closer to him.

"Not personally. Look, Zlatko is not a good guy. He experiments on androids. Lures deviants, with the guise of being helpful. Don't go there," He spoke softly. Looking over her shoulder, in hopes Alice hadn't heard.

"Oh," she sounded defeated. "Maybe those are just rumors. Maybe he really helps androids." Her optimism almost hurt.

"No, he doesn't. Listen, there's a place called Jericho." Reaching over he grabbed her hand and planted the directions in her hard drive. "Go there. There are people who will help Alice and you."

"How do we know we can trust you?"

"You don't, but I have no intention of causing harm to any of you." Connor gave her one of his lopsided smiles.

"Connor?!" Alarm bells went off in his head. How much time had passed? The timer had been at zero for the last twenty minutes.

"Get to the train station. Go to Jericho." Kara pulled Alice from under the stairs. She made eye contact once more, before dashing through the kitchen, and out the backdoor.

"I'm right here, Lieutenant!" Connor yelled. "Hide, Ralph." The WR600 nodded and left the room.

"What the fuck," were the first words out of Hank's mouth as he walked through the door. "Why are you just standing there. Some scruple enter into your program?"

"No. For your information, my programs are running at an optimal level. Thank you very much," Connor huffed out.

"Sure. Did you forget our deal?"

"It wasn't a deal; it was more of an order." Connor pointed out.

"It was a mutual agreement we had. That's what a deal is. You know what? Forget it. Did you find anything?" Hank asked.

"No." With all his precognition software, Connor could have never foreseen those two little letters making Hank as angry as it did.

"No," he repeated. "You mean to tell me you've just been standing here for the past half hour?" Connor shrugged his shoulders. "I've been looking for you everywhere. I looked in the car, in the alleyways, and don't get me started on how many stores I looked in."

"I'm sorry," the android muttered. "Going forward, I will pay closer attention to any time constraints."

"Good...let's get outta here. This place looks like it'll fall apart any minute." Hank dragged Connor, by his arm, outside.

The drive back to the precinct was filled with the lovely sounds of ear-shattering heavy metal. Connor reached over and turned the radio off.

"Hank?"

"Yes, Connor?" Hank drawled.

"Did you really look in all those places for me?" The lieutenant gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"Yes. Didn't want to fill out paperwork for a broken machine." Hank's eyes stared intently in front of him.

"Thank you," Connor said softly. Hank muttered something under his breath. The android couldn't be sure, but it sounded like 'you're welcome.'


	5. Chapter 5: The Nest

Connor hoped Kara and Alice made it to Jericho safely. There were so many things that could go wrong. A car runs them over, a human apprehends them, Kara decides to go to Zlatko instead, or they just don't find Jericho. He bounced his leg. Hank had taken away his coin. Saying it was "distracting him." From what? Was the immediate retort, but it died on his lips. It wasn't worth it.

"Can you stop bouncing your leg?" Hank glanced over at him.

"Yes, I do have the ability to stop moving my leg."

"Good," He turned his attention to the road. Connor continued to bounce his leg. Enjoying every second of Hank's annoyance.

"So….are you gonna fuckin' stop?"

"No." Hank glared daggers at the road.

"Why not?" Connor rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because a certain company made the executive decision to send a prototype out as if it was the finished product. Maybe because this prototype has a need to constantly keep moving. Or maybe it's the fact this prototype's success is so closely monitored that any indication of straying from the case could mean deactivation." The android stopped bouncing his leg and slouched in his seat.

Hank stayed quiet. Knights of the Black Death soon (loudly) filled the silence.

Connor focused his eyes on the watch. He needed to keep a lid on his temper because as far as he knew, this was his last chance.

As expected, Hank stopped at Chicken Feed. He was hesitant to join the Lieutenant, as his outburst had clearly not gone unnoticed. Adjusting his tie, Connor made his way across the street.

Unlike last time, Connor didn't scan Hank's food. As far as he was concerned, what he didn't know couldn't hurt him.

"Are you gonna tell me what the hell that was about?" For once, Hank kept his voice at a respectable volume.

"Yeah, sorry. A glitch came up. It must have messed with my processors. It won't happen again." Connor looked down at the table, willing away the incident and the probable following consequences. As soon as they got back to the precinct Hank would surely tell Fowler what a defective machine he was. Cyberlife would have to deactivate him. Connor could already feel the pokes and prods of technicians. He shivered.

"Connor? Connor? Connor!" Hank banged on the table in an attempt to get the android's attention. Connor snapped back to reality. He gave his full, undivided attention to Hank. "It's fine. Let's pretend nothing ever happened."

"Okay," the android said softly.

Hank took a couple more bites from his burger. Connor shifted anxiously on his feet.

"A new case just came in. I'll go wait in the car."

An hour and a few snarky remarks from Hank later, they were back on the road. The apartment building was a little less than five minutes away. The building towered over all other houses in the neighborhood. What it had in height, it lacked in style. Faded, rundown bricks made up the exterior. A makeshift ashtray (made from an ice cream container) sat on the bottom step. A group of people conjugated on the steps.

"Why are we here again?" Hank carefully walked in between the group and up the stairs.

"Someone reported a continuous loud noise." Hank huffed.

"Dunno why we have to be the ones to check it out." He turned to go inside.

"I don't….ow!"

"Connor?" Hank whirled around. The android had fallen on his knees.

"I'm fine. Just tripped over a beer bottle." Connor smiled. There was scattered laughter among the group.

"Okay, the show's over." Hank gruffed out. He marched down the steps and helped Connor up. Patting the android on the shoulder, he asked, "You okay? Sounded like you landed pretty hard."

"I'm fine. Thank you for your concern." The older man nodded and navigated the android inside.

The inside didn't look any better than the exterior. Mold covered little patches of the walls. The smell of booze, someone's burning casserole, and Cigarette smoke permeated the building.

The elevator was the worst. Connor knew the elevator had to be checked by the health department, at least once a year, but it did little to ease his worries. It creaked as they stepped on, and any sort of movement seemed to make it sway. Though, that could've just been Connor's imagination.

Hank practically ran off the elevator. Which was impressive, as Connor didn't know Hank had the ability to run.

Connor knocked on the door. First softly than a bit louder. "Detroit Police open up!" A loud bang sounded out through the apartment.

"Get behind me," the older man ordered.

"Got it." Hank kicked open the door.

Pigeons collided the Lieutenant. Connor had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.

"Goddamn fuckin' pigeons!" He swatted at the birds; who had more or less calmed down.

Connor scanned over the apartment if only to seem busy. He noted the rA9 scribbled on the bathroom wall, the LED on the counter, and the blue blood splattered in the sink. He grimaced, as he pictured what this android had to go through.

"Find anything?" Hank asked from behind Connor.

"Yes. The deviant cut their LED out." He held up the circular object. "Besides that, nothing."

"Fuckin' androids," Hank muttered to himself, as he walked out of the room. Connor wrapped up his investigation in the bathroom.

"The deviant is long gone. There's nothing we can do."

"Great. Let's leave," Hank said and started for the door.

Connor glanced at the giant hole in the ceiling, and silently hoped Rupert would make it to Jericho soon. Apparently, the WB200 thought Connor was on to him, because not a second later he leaped from his hiding spot. He took one look at the RK800 and bolted.

Connor chased after him. He needed to explain himself.

"What the Hell, Connor?" Hank was picking himself off the ground.

"I've got him." The RK800 ran as fast as he could to catch up with Rupert. He jumped from building to building, slid down glass panels, and weaved through indoor gardens. Connor ran full force to get through the cornfield.

"Rupert!" The WB200 stopped dead in his tracks. Connor held his hands up. He spoke in a soft voice as if he was speaking to a caged animal.

"What-what do you want? Leave me alone. I just want to be left alone." Rupert's eyes never quite met with Connor's. The RK800 noticed a slight tremor in his hand. Catching Connor's line of sight, the shaking extremity was pulled behind his back.

"I don't want to hurt you. Let me explain myself-"

"There you are!" Hank exclaimed. Rupert shifted on his feet. Any sudden movements and he would run for the hills. "Is this the fucker that knocked me over?"

Connor opened his mouth to speak but no noise escaped. His throat suddenly felt very dry. He balled his hands into fists in an attempt to curve the desire to fix his tie.

As Connor snapped back to reality he came to the realization that the WB200 was no longer in front of him. Nor was Hank besides him.

"Where the fuck are you going!" Connor followed the voice like it was his lifeline. The missing duo were on a lower portion of the roof. Rupert was dangerously close to the edge. Hank kept his distance.

"Please step away from the ledge," Connor pleaded, as he walked up to stand besides Hank.

"You're here. Maybe you can talk sense into that thing."

"I'm not here to hurt you. Please step away from the ledge," Connor edged closer. If he could reach him, he could get him to safety.

"No! Maybe you won't hurt me, but they will. They're going to tear me apart." Rupert's voice broke. "I don't want to die, but I'd rather it be on my own terms, not theirs."

Connor fumbled for the right words to say. He had the whole English dictionary in his memory, but not one word worked right now. Rupert looked Connor in the eyes. The android gave a sad smile before stepping off the ledge.


	6. Chapter 6: Death and Drinks

It all happened so fast. One minute Connor's trying to talk sense into Rupert. The next, Rupert's jumping from the ledge, and Hank's cursing up a storm. Connor feels numb. It's not quite the same feeling, as being a machine. That numbness offered complete emotional detachment from, well, anything. This numbness was similar to when a limb falls asleep. You can feel everything and nothing. For the first time since becoming deviant, Connor wished he had stayed an unfeeling machine.

It would certainly make his life easier. Looking at Hank, Connor had no doubt it'd make his 'partner's' life easier too.

The watch sat heavy on his wrist. The brown band stood out against his pale skin. Connor traced the clock with his fingernail. Memories of police chases, sleepless nights, days spent hiding in the shadows, Sandra, and….

Hank shook his head. "Poor fucker," his voice was light, but the haunted look in Hank's eyes told Connor more than they needed too.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat in an attempt to gain control over his emotions. "We-we should call this in."

"Who?"

"Who, what? Connor tilted his head.

"Who are we going to call. The android's dead. It's not like 9-1-1 has an Android section in the hospital. Can't you call up Cyber dicks?"

"No," Connor shot back defensively. He crossed his arms.

"No? That's all you got?" Hank ran a hand down his face. With a groan, he turned away. "I'm gettin' a drink."

"What about the android?!" Connor yelled at Hank's retreating form.

Hank spun around to face him. "I don't know. You figure it out."

"No! You are not leaving me to deal with this. In case it escaped your notice, this isn't a put-all-the-work-on-the-android kind of investigation." Connor had had enough. "You don't have to like me. I understand. You hate androids, I am an android. But please….please work with me," Connor pleaded. He didn't know to who, as Hank was sure as hell not listening.

Hank balled his hands into fists. Preparing for his (certain) imminent death, Connor shrunk away. It didn't matter his soon to be murderer was ten feet away. Connor didn't underestimate Hank for a minute. Sure, he looked old, smelled like booze, had the fashion sense of someone from the seventies, and was quite rude, but Hank had a gun. Which was more than Connor could say at the moment.

"Fine. I'll call the trash collector," Hank said. Connor had to fight the urge to groan.

The trash collector? Really Hank? But Connor bit his tongue. Any help is better than no help at all, or that's what he's heard.

Hank put the phone back into his jacket pocket. "They'll take care of it. Now, how 'bout those drinks."

In spite of seeing Hank intoxicated on a plethora of occasions, Connor still found it strange how some liquid could change the man's temperament in a matter of glasses. It was just after five in the afternoon, and Hank was already talking nonsense.

"Connor?" Hank's attempt at getting attention was intermittently interrupted by hiccups.

"Yes, Hank?" Whatever Hank was going to say, wasn't going to be good. Connor braced himself for the worse.

"Why are-are all you guys such….uh…..dicks," Hank finished off his glass. "Another, Jimmy." Jimmy eyed both of them, as he poured the whiskey.

"I guess CyberLife modeled us all after you," Connor chuckled. Realizing his error, he quickly shut his trap. If Hank noticed he kept it to himself.

"Yeah, yeah fuck you too," despite the harsh words there was no malice in Hank's voice. "Hey what...uh...time is it?"

"It's 7:00 am." Hank bolted from his seat. The setting sun provided the right lighting to make it sound legitimate. Connor felt a little bad, as Hank scrambled to pay his tab, but he'd be damned if he'd let his friend (rather Hank wanted to admit it or not) drink his night away.

Getting Hank out of the bar was one thing, getting Hank home was another. After 10 minutes of arguing (which went nowhere), Hank trying to punch Connor, and 5 more minutes of arguing, Connor wrestled the car keys from Hank.

"Hey, why does the car clock say 5:00?"

"Oh, wow! It's earlier than I thought." Connor started the car.

"It's 5:00 pm isn't it?" Hank asked angrily.

"5:00 pm? You must've had a lot to drink." If Connor could sweat his CyberLife uniform would be soaked.

"Connor? You're a shitty liar," Hank let out a harsh laugh. Connor did his best to focus on the road. "But not the worse. Once apprehended a guy who swore he 'didn't know murder was illegal'."

"Maybe he was under the influence of-" Hank interjected.

"They put him through a drug test and breathalyzer. The breathalyzer was negative, so we're all thinkin' he's high on somethin'."

"Positive drug tests can take over a week to get back. You guys held onto him for a week?" Connor knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. "Even for a serious crime, such as murder, a suspect can't be held longer than 96 hours."

Hank shot the android a bitch face. "It wasn't positive. We got it back less 'an a day later. How far away are we?"

"We are two miles away. At our current speed, we should arrive at 5:25 pm."

Hank groaned and leaned against the window. The rest of the car ride, though short, was enough to make Hank fall asleep. By the time the car pulled into the driveway, Hank was already drooling.

"Hank," Connor leaned over the center console. "Wake up, Hank!"

Hank groaned but remained otherwise asleep. Bringing his hand up, Connor full on bitched slapped his friend.

"What in the hell, Connor?!" Hank jolted upright and held his injured face.

"I was worried." Connor unlocked the front door.

"Really?" Hank stumbled his way into the house.

"No. I knew you'd wake up." Placing Hank's keys on the table, Connor plopped down on the couch. "See," he teased," I'm not that bad of a liar."

"Debatable," Hank deadpanned. "You know the rules. Don't-"

"Touch anything and stay right here. I know," Connor finished with a smile.

"I'll be in the kitchen." Hank leaned against the doorway. Swaying heavily, he managed to get into the kitchen and seated.

"Hey, Hank?"

"What now?" Judging by how muffled the voice was, Connor deduced that Hank's head was down.

"We have another case. A murder-"

"No, the fuck we don't. I'm done. Let Chris and fuck-face-McGee handle it," Hank's voice was clearer and less muffled. "I mean Gavin's works homicide cases too."

"That's correct, but Gavin isn't working on the deviant cases."

"A deviant case? Fuck me. Where...uh….where are we goin'." Hank forced himself to stand.

"The Eden Club."


	7. Chapter 7: Laughter is the Best Medicine

"It feels like somebody's playing with a drill in my head," Hank complained, rubbing his temples.

"I'm not positive, but it might have something to do with the four beers, two shots of rum, and the glass of whiskey you downed in under an hour."

"Shudd up!"

Connor forced the smirk from his face.

The duo slid out of the beat-up car. Connor shut his eyes. The Eden Club's neon sign blinked obnoxiously overhead. The inside of the club was brighter than he remembered. It seemed everywhere he looked was donned with pink and purplish lights. Connor stared at the floor as they walked past the (many) androids. He couldn't stand looking at them. There was nothing in their eyes, no sentience, no emotion, and absolutely no life.

Hank grunted as Connor stepped on the back of his shoe. "Sorry." The RK800 tried to muster his best poker face, but he could feel the stares of the other androids, and honestly, it was getting to him.

"Whatever," Hank grumbled out. The sliding door opened to reveal the garbage pile that became human and Chris. Even though he had expected them, Connor couldn't stop the groan from leaving his mouth.

"Lt. Anderson, and his plastic pet. The phuck you two doin' here?" Gavin laughed.

"We've been assigned all cases involving androids," Connor explained in a voice that sounded way calmer than he actually was. "We'll take it from here."

Gavin narrowed his eyes. "Sure," he said petulantly. "C'mon Chris it's startin' to stink of booze in here." Gavin tried to bump into Connor on the way out, but the android stepped back.

"'Night, Lieutenant." Chris smiled at the duo, as he followed the detective out.

Connor glanced over at the victim. "He was strangled."

"I know I saw the bruises," Hank affirmed. He stood a few feet behind Connor and crossed his arms.

"I need to reactivate this android."

"Think you can do it?"

"If I can it will only be for a few moments." Connor shot a glance over his shoulder at Hank. Hank, who was still recovering from his hangover, gave the android a nervous smile. Cautiously, Connor opened the stomach cavity of the Traci. As expected the wires were disconnected.

Touching the wires, Connor tentatively reconnected them. The effects were immediate. The Traci bolted into a sitting position. She darted her eyes between the two men.

"Is he...is he dead?" She tried to look at the dead body.

"Yes," Connor confirmed. She shrunk back further. "I know this is hard for you, but can you tell us what happened."

"He started hitting me...again ...and again." She lifted her head. Blue blood dribbled from her nose. "I begged him to stop, but he wouldn't." Connor gently placed his hand on her knee.

"Is there anything else we should know." He tried to keep the urgency out of his voice. The last thing she needs at the moment is to be rushed. But the timer was counting down, and the longer he waited the less information they had. Of course Connor did have enough intel to find the blue-haired Traci, but explaining that to Hank made his head hurt.

"There was…..there was another girl."

Five….

"Can you tell us about this girl?"

….Four….

…...Three...

"She-she has blue hair."

Two….she whimpered and cast her eyes to her lap. Connor resisted the urge to comfort her. He could feel Hank's gaze boring into his back.

…..One…..

Two things happened at the same time. The timer disappeared from Connor's vision, and the Traci slumped forward. The RK800 stood up, slowly.

"I have an idea, but I need your help."

"Okay? Get on with it!"

"Club policy is to wipe the androids every two hours. I can tap into their memory banks and see where the blue-haired Traci went."

"It's probably long gone by now."

"Can we at least look for a few minutes." Hank narrowed his eyes.

"This is a waste of time-" Connor gave the lieutenant his best puppy dog eyes. Hank gave a sigh of defeat. "Five minutes." As he walked towards the door he muttered, "stupid fuckin' androids...stupid fuckin' CyberLife."

It doesn't take as long as last time to find where the blue-haired Traci went. And at this point, Connor doesn't know why he's tracking the android down. It would be easier to just give up and let the blue-haired Traci and her girlfriend escape. Let them live their lives in peace.

But Connor can still remember pulling the trigger. The smell of gunpowder in the air and the smoking gun. How the blue-haired Traci fell to her knees and cried out in anguish. He could distinctly recall the cool metal falling from his hands. His fellow android lunged forward for the gun. For a brief moment, he had felt fear, as she lifted the gun. The moment had passed when she turned the gun on herself and pulled the trigger. After all that Connor just felt numb.

So when the blue-haired Traci jumped him, he let her win.

"When that man broke the other Traci... I knew I was next... I was so scared... I begged him to stop, but he wouldn't... And so I put my hands around his throat, and I squeezed...until he stopped moving... I didn't mean to kill him... I just wanted to stay alive...get back to the one I love. I wanted her to hold me in her arms again... make me forget about the humans...their smell of sweat and their dirty words…"

Connor remained silent throughout her explanation. He smiled at them and gave them a nod of the head.

"Come on, let's go." The blue-haired Traci gave one last look at Connor before jumping the fence.

Even though he was soaking wet and had failed yet another mission. Connor felt content. There was a good chance the Traci's would make it somewhere safe.

"It's probably better this way." Connor jumped ten-feet in the air. He had forgotten Hank was behind him.

"Can we please go back to your place of residence? I believe Sumo hasn't been out in hours."

Hank softened his features. "Sure. Let's go home."

Back on the road again, and fully recovered from his hangover, Hank was more talkative than ever. Of course, he still was forthcoming about certain events, but he wasn't giving monosyllabic answers.

"Knock, knock?" Connor hated knock, knock jokes. They made no sense, but Hank was grinning from ear-to-ear, and Connor wasn't going to ruin this moment with cynicism.

"Who's there?" The Rk800 asked.

"Etch." Connor had no idea where this was going.

"Etch who?"

"Bless you." Hank finished the joke smiling. It took Connor a few seconds to fully understand the joke.

Connor felt the laughter before it left his mouth. He tried his best to hold it in, but the more he suppressed it, the more he wanted to laugh. Hiding his mouth behind his hand, he faced the window.

"Are you okay? Your face is really red."

Connor opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out were loud obnoxious giggles. Hank took one look at him before also breaking into a laughing fit.

"I can't….I can't stop…..laughing!" Connor held his sides. He attempted a few deep breaths, but they were not effective.

Hank smiled to himself. Sure, maybe Connor wasn't human, but as Hank looked over to the android, he couldn't deny Connor showed more compassion than most of humanity. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he enjoyed working with the android.


	8. Chapter 8: Connor is On the Case

Connor refused to put himself into sleep-mode, At least, not while CSI: Special Victims Unit was on. He can't remember what season he's on, and Hank had gone to bed nearly three episodes ago, but the android couldn't bring himself to turn it off.

According to the clock on the wall, it was 6:05. He figured it was too late now anyway. With the finality of someone making a horrible choice, Connor clicked the next episode.

The early morning light streamed through the curtains. Birds chirped merrily outside. Connor rubbed his eyes. Yawning, he got to his feet and walked into the kitchen.

Hank was seated at the table. "Did someone forget to wake up?" He jokingly asked.

Connor ignored the question in favor of asking his own. "What time is it?"

"4:00 PM."

"What!" Connor leaped to his feet. "Fowler's going to kill you. You can't afford another disciplinary write-up."

Connor," Hank tried to calm the frantic android.

"Those things never go away. We could get Fowler some flowers. I heard somewhere that humans love flowers. Which kind of flower is his favorite?" Connor stopped his pacing. He looked to Hank for the answer.

"Connor, even if that were the case, I wouldn't give Fowler flowers. It would send the wrong message."

"I don't understand why. I mean flowers come in a variety of colors, shapes, and smells. Did you know there are over 400,000 different flower species? There has to be one that he likes."

"He's allergic," Hank answered. "Besides-"

"Okay then, we can get him a goldfish. There are at least 22 different types of them in the world. I feel, like Fowler just needs some company, and-"

"Connor!" The android stopped his tangent. "We're not late. Fowler called me earlier and told me I didn't have to come in. And by extension that means you. In less, there's an emergency, or somethin' involving deviants happens, we should be ok." Hank explained before sipping his coffee.

The android nodded to show his understanding. Slowly, Connor planted himself on the chair. "Hank?"

"Yes?"

"What is today's date?"

Hank checked his phone. "It's Monday, November eighth. Why? Don't you have a built-in clock or somethin'"

"Yeah, it's just not functioning properly. And anyway, a new case just came in. The Stratford Tower has been infiltrated by deviants."

"Fuck me sideways!" Hank exclaimed in half-hearted anger. "Well, we better get goin' before we get another case." He dragged his feet to the door. Sumo barked his displeasure at being left alone, yet again. "We'll be back, Sumo."

"Goodbye, Sumo," Connor patted the dog's head on the way out the door.

The outside of the tower was swamped with reporters and concerned passer-Byers. Police struggled to keep them back.

"Vultures," Hank muttered, as he pushed his way through the crowd. He kept a tight grasp on Connor's jacket.

"Hank, I…..we didn't expect you so soon, but Chris will brief you when you get to the top floor." Ben patted Hank's arm before turning back to the crowd.

"79-floors? That seems a little excessive," Hank grumbled.

"Are you afraid of elevators, Lieutenant?"

"No…. just tell me about this case."

"Four deviants infiltrated the tower. That's all I know." The elevator doors slowly opened.

"Hi, Hank." Officer Miller greeted the Lieutenant.

"Shit, what's going on here? There was a party and nobody told me about it?"

"Yeah, it's all over the news, so everybody's butting their nose in... Even the FBI wants a piece of the action... " Chris gestured towards an FBI agent.

"Ah Christ, now we got the Feds on our back... I knew this was gonna be a shitty day... So what do we got?"

"A group of four androids... They knew the building, and they were very well organized. I'm still trying to figure out how they got this far without being noticed."

A thought struck Connor, "Hey, Officer Miller. The broadcast room wouldn't happen to have CCTV, would it?"

"It does. It's a straight shot down the hall. The footage is still pulled up on one of the smaller screens."

"Thank you." Connor made his way to the broadcasting room. He analyzed every little detail. There were so many things he missed last time, like the Camera stationed above the door, or the operator chairs with the word, 'Android' in big, bold letters.

The CCTV footage showed Markus, North, Simon, and Josh ringing the doorbell.

"They didn't break-in?" Connor asked Chris.

"No…...no signs of forced entry." Chris turned back to his report.

"Someone must have seen what was happening. May I please have a word with the station's androids."

"Knock yourself out. They're stored in the kitchen."

The station's kitchen is clean with nothing out of place. Every surface, every wall looks to have been deep cleaned recently. The androids stood in a straight, horizontal line. He eyed each one.

"I know one of you is a deviant. I just don't know which." None of them moved a muscle. They stared blankly ahead. "I'm a deviant too," Connor whispered. He expected some sort of a reaction. The androids didn't even shift.

Connor went down the line and looked at each of them in the eyes. He looked for any trace of understanding in their eyes. The first two's eyes held no sentience. By the third one, Connor was starting to feel hopeless. He locked eyes with the android and saw it immediately.

_Life._

There was light in the android's eyes. The kind of light Connor only recognized from humans and other deviants. He let out a sigh of relief. He hadn't failed another android.

"You're a deviant," Connor stated aloud. The android shifted its eyes. The RK800 followed them to a large, conveniently placed, steak knife on one of the counters. "No! Wait! I want to-"

The wind was knocked out of him, as the deviant threw some decent punches. It took Connor a minute to even fight back. He managed to almost land a sucker punch, but it was intercepted by the other android. The deviant grabbed his hand and slammed it on the counter. Before Connor could react, the large knife was stabbed clean through his hand. The deviant takes the extra precaution of removing Connor's chest bicomponent, and throwing it across the room. The android doesn't take a second glance at Connor before fleeing the scene.

Android's can't feel pain. Everyone, even the technologically impaired, know that. But the only word that could describe the overwhelming feeling of being pinned to the counter was a pain. The knife had penetrated all the way through his hand. Thirium slowly collected around the embedded blade.

Connor tried to calm himself just long enough to form an escape plan. An (almost) human-sounding gasp leaves him, as he yanks on the knife. It dislodged and Connor fell. His hand was practically pouring blue blood. Pop-up warnings clouded his vision. He canceled each one.

**Time Remaining before shutdown: **_**1:30 **_

Connor swallowed past the lump in his throat. The prospect of shutting down dawning on him. "Hank help…help…..I need….." he trailed off.

**Time Remaining before shutdown: **_**1:15**_

Desperately Connor searched the room. His eyes landed on the circular metal piece, laying haphazardly across the room.

He put his head down. Connor considered giving up.

It'd be easier.

Just fall asleep and never wake up.

He'd once read that most humans wanted to die that way.

It did sound peaceful.

No CyberLife bringing him back.

Just him and peace and quiet.

And nothing…..

…..An eternity of nothing.

He can't put himself through that.

He can't put Hank through that.

Weakly, Connor forced his head up.

**Time Remaining before shutdown: **_**1:00**_

Arm-by-Arm he dragged himself across the room. Painting the usually dark-grey carpet a thirium blue as he went.

**Time Remaining before shutdown: **_**37 seconds**_

The bio component lay just beyond his reach. Connor stretched his arm out. He grabbed at it. The blue blood made it harder to fully grasp it.

"Connor? Where-" Hank cut himself off.

"Connor! Hang on son, hang on, hang on! We're gonna save you, hang on! …..Here…...here!" He pulled the android onto his lap.

"Don't worry," Connor winced as Hank accidentally jostled him. "Everything is fine. I'm okay-okay."

**Time Remaining before shutdown: **_**10 seconds **_

"You are not fine, Connor! How do I help? What do I do?" Hank's eyes darted around as if searching for the answer.

Time Remaining before shutdown: 5 seconds

"My bio component it's over…...over there."

"Where?" Hank snapped his head around to find the missing piece. With one arm clutching Connor to his chest, he felt the area around him.

**Time Remaining Before Shutdown:** _**1 second**_

He had failed Hank, again. The thought struck him like a ton of bricks. He felt the need to communicate this to his friend.

"I'm sorry."

_**All Systems in Shutdown Mode. **_


	9. Chapter 9: Everything's Alright

**Authors Note: Thank you to everyone that reviewed/read the story. I appreciate every single one of you. :)**

Thirium levels…optimal

Bio Component #8456w…...repaired

All systems…..functional

All systems…...online

"RK800, register your name." The android looked at the man in front of him. "Connor," the man said.

"Connor," he repeated.

"Do you know where you are?" Connor looked around his environment. The room he was being held in wasn't anything extraordinary; just boring grey walls and white-tiled floor.

"No," he admitted reluctantly. The last thing he needed was to be written-off as ineffective. "But according to my scans, the paint on the walls were painted on sometime in the last year, or so."

"Do you know who I am?" The man brushed off Connor's unimpressive observation.

Connor looked him up and down. He looked strangely familiar. He searched his databases for anyone matching the man's description.

**Match found:**

**Kamski, Elijah**

_Born: 07/17/2002/Former CEO of CyberLife_

_Criminal record: None_

"You're Elijah Kamski."

Kamski leaned back in his chair. "Impressive," he breathed. "But not quite good enough."

Connor nodded along.

"Do you remember who you are?"

"Yes, I'm Connor the android sent by-"

"-No," Kamski interrupted. "That was the old you. Who are _you_, Connor?"

Connor furrowed his eyebrows. He could answer almost any question asked of him, so why couldn't he answer this one. A red haze seemed to cover any useful information.

"I don't know."

Kamski stared at him. "How about this, can you tell me about your last mission?"

"I negotiated a hostage situation."

"Interesting," Kamski muttered. "Hank Anderson. What can you tell me about him? Without looking through your database," he added, seeing the android getting ready to do just that.

_**Who is Hank Anderson?**_

#$^ &%*^ !*$&^

He searched through his memory banks, at least the ones not covered in the red-haze. The fluorescent light overhead made it increasingly hard to focus. Connor covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut.

A quick glimpse of a man. Slightly taller than Connor, with long greying hair.

_**Who is Hank Anderson?**_

H$^ Yo*^ !*$&d

Connor gritted his teeth. He searched through the red haze.

He caught little flashes of memories here and there. A Saint-bernard licking his face. The same, greying man laughing. A younger man, around Kamski's age, punching him in his stomach.

_**Who is Hank Anderson?**_

He's You*^ F!$&nd

Memories seemed to bombard him. He could hardly catch his-stimulated-breath. The sound of a gun going off, and a dog's bark. The fear of hiding in back alleys. A neon sign with the words; Jimmy's Bar. Heavy Metal so loud Connor could feel it in his bones. A framed picture of a little boy.

It suddenly clicked.

_**Who is Hank Anderson?**_

He's Your Friend

Connor jumped up. Hellbent on getting back to Hank. Kamski placed a hand on Connor's knee.

"Where are you going?" Connor narrowed his eyes. He had just about enough of Kamski's games.

"I'm leaving," the android replied with a bit more attitude than was required.

"No, you're not."

"Watch me." Connor got to his feet. He took three steps before falling on his bottom.

"Need help?" Kamski teased.

The RK800 counted to ten, before responding. "Fuck off!" Connor yelled in frustration. In shock, he quickly covered his mouth. "I'm so sorry. It just slipped out."

"I guess Hank had a bigger influence on you than I originally thought." He offered his hand to Connor. The android accepted it graciously.

Kamski helped Connor out of the room. The android noted the shocking difference between the rest of the house and the previous room.

"So….. why did you help me?" Connor asked once he was settled. A cup of thirium in his hands.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Kamski took a tiny sip of something that smelled suspiciously of coffee.

"Well, yes, I would like to know. That's why I asked." Kamski laughed, and Connor shot him a pointed look.

"They built you with a little extra sass, huh?"

They sat in uncomfortable silence. Or, at least Connor did, as Kamski continued to drink his coffee. Enjoying the impatience radiating off the android. He turned to a near-by Chloe.

"Bring project #1983." She gave a curt nod and left the room.

"What's project #1983?"

Kamski abruptly changed the subject."You like animals, right?"

"Yeah…...I don't see how that-"

"-How many fish are there? How many different species?"

"There are over 2.5 million fish in the world. With an estimated 200 different species, but scientists think that number could be much higher. My personal favorite is the

_Dwarf gourami. _I saw one at the Philips' house. It was named Dewey. Do you think Hank would let me have a fish?"

"I'll let you take that up with him. Ah, Chloe, thank you." Chloe handed Kamski a small cardboard box.

It piqued Connor's interest. "What is that?"

"This?" Kamski held the box up.

"No, the coffee mug. Yes, that."

"This, Connor is project #1983." Kamski lifted the lid, painfully slow, as if to build tension.

"Enough with dramatics! Get on with it!" Connor was half-tempted to reach across the table and open it himself.

"Alright, alright," Kamski opened the lid. Leaning across the table, Connor peered into the box. Hoping to catch a glance of….

"Nothing?" Connor said, doing his best to keep the disappointment off his face. "There's nothing in the box. Is this some sort of invisibility project?"

"I'm afraid not. Project #1983 had nothing to do with invisibility." Kamski stood up. "The project was safeguarded. Hence why you couldn't access the files. You know I'm surprised at you, Connor." He looked out one of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Why?" Much to his knowledge, Connor hadn't done anything surprise worthy. Okay, that wasn't exactly true. He was a deviant; hunting other deviants. But deviancy wasn't anything new.

"Nice watch you have there, Connor. Where did you get it?" Connor could sense the bait from a mile away.

"Nowhere. CyberLife gave it to me."

Kamski chuckled, "we both know that's not true."

"Well, it is, because-"

"-Just give it up already!" Handing off his coffee mug to one of the Chloes, Kamski plopped down besides Connor. "This," he grabbed Connor's wrist, "is project #1983."

"Time travel," Connor said, voice barely above a whisper. "The watch! You worked on the watch!"

"Yes, it was one of my later projects. I left it to one of the lead researchers. I believe you've met her? Sandra, I think her name was." Observing the android's increasing uneasiness, Kamski spoke in a calmer tone. "I thought the project went under. Kind of a disappointment, but you win some you lose some."

"Elijah?" Connor drew his attention to the Chloe standing in the doorway. "The automated taxi is here."

"Thank you, Chloe. Well, Connor, we'll have to finish this conversation another day." Kamski stood and faced the floor-to-ceiling windows. "I expect you know your way out."

Confused as all hell, Connor went to leave.

"Don't think for a moment CyberLife has forgotten you." Connor paused for a moment, before continuing.

The automated taxi took him straight to Hank's house. Which was a relief, as Connor feared Kamski might turn him over to CyberLife.

All the lights were off, but Hank's car was parked in the driveway.

Tentatively, Connor rang the doorbell. After waiting a few moments, Connor decided to start banging on the door.

Hank ripped the door open. "What the fuck do you…"

"Hi, Hank. How have you-" Hank pulled the android into a tight, bear-like hug.

"Don't…...don't you ever scare me like that again." Hank scolded once they broke apart. "Now get inside. It's way too fuckin' cold."

The inside of Hank's house was roughly the same. The faint smell of booze permeated the area. Glass bottles and beer cans littered the coffee table.

Hank took a seat at the kitchen table. "So…..you're back."

"I'm back," Connor confirmed.

"How?"

Connor could feel a headache coming on just by thinking about Kamski, so he said, "CyberLife fixed me up. They invested millions in my creation, so they wouldn't let me die that easy.

"Uh…..well…...I guess that makes sense." Hank frowned. "It was different not having you here, Connor. I'm glad you're back."

Sumo barked his agreement.

"I missed you too Hank," Connor laughed.


	10. Chapter 10: Well, This Sucks

"So tell me again. What happened?" Hank asked from over his shoulder. Dishes clanged together, as he stuffed another into the strainer.

"Elijah Kamski helped me," Connor said, across the kitchen. He scrubbed the floor. It was times like this that made him glad he was an android because if he wasn't, he would have surely given up on this particular stain long ago.

"What do you think he wants?" Hank started on the kitchen windows; windexing and wiping in a sort of rhythm.

"I have no clue. How are you doing, Hank?"

"Well, the windows are smudged to hell-"

"-No I mean you. How are you doing?" Connor tossed his dirty rag into a corner.

"I'm fine, now, I guess. How're you? You're the one that had a fuckin' near-death experience."

"Fine, I guess," Connor mocked. He glared at Hank's back.

The rag stopped mid-stroke. "What's your fuckin' problem?" He started scrubbing at the windows with a renewed energy.

"My fuckin' problem is just…..just look at this place. We've been cleaning for the last two hours. We haven't even started on the living room," Connor tried to keep his voice steady. "I was only gone for what? Three, four days tops."

The noise that came from Hank could hardly be described as human. He whirled around to face Connor. The rag fell from the older man's fist and landed unceremoniously on the floor.

"I thought you died," Hank said, in a surprisingly calm voice.

"But I didn't die. I was just in a temporary shut-down mode."

"I didn't fuckin' know that." Hank gritted his teeth.

"I don't understand."

Hank's shoulders slumped. A chair scraped the floor, as it was pulled out. Hank sat down. He put his head in his arms.

A sudden thought struck him.

Cole.

He had reminded Hank of his son's death.

In all the time Connor's been 'alive' he's never had to comfort someone. At least, he's never had to comfort someone without a social protocol telling him what to do.

Did Hank even want comfort? Connor gingerly touched Hank's upper back. He swallowed thickly, taking a chair next to Hank.

"Listen, I'm sorry. It was dumb of me to even ask. I didn't think-"

Hank picked his head up.

"-I know," Hank interrupted, voice gloomy. "That social program or whatever it needs some work. But, the truth is I'm not fine. After you died-shut down, I…..I didn't know what to do. There was no one there to keep me grounded. I couldn't get the image of you laying there, covered in blue blood out of my fuckin' mind. It reminded me…..it reminded me." Hank took a deep breath. He ran a trembling hand through his hair.

"It reminded you of Cole," Connor finished.

"No. I-I just…...I just……" Hank trailed off. He stared at the tabletop.

Connor took a nice long look at his friend. Hank's untidy hair hung in unwashed strands in front of his face. The slight termor present in his hand, and Hank's shaky breaths told the android all it needed to.

"I'm sorry," Connor said. Sumo's loud panting filled the quiet of the room. He opened his mouth to explain, but shut it just as quickly.

Hank sighed, "Don't be." Running his trembling hand through his hair, he continued. "It's not your fuckin' fault. You don't have to apologize. You didn't fuckin' kill 'im. But you're right. You do remind me of…...of…….of him." Hank took a few deep breaths to calm himself. "But that's not a bad thing." Hank met Connor's eyes. "When you died-shutdown-whatever, I didn't know what to do. You just kept bleeding, and when your LED went out I felt like the accident was happening again. I felt helpless." Hank rubbed at his eyes. "Jesus Christ, look at me. I'm crying like a fuckin' bitch."

Connor fiddled with the cuff of his jacket. Hanging onto every word that left Hank's mouth. He felt, like he should say something. He tried to construct an a-halfway decent response. One that would improve Hank's mood, and get his thoughts across.

'I understand you're upset.' sounded way to robotic, even for Connor's tastes. Desperately, he searched through his databases in hopes of finding the right words.

Hank's shoulders slumped even further. "I need a fuckin' drink." The chair creaked, as Hank leaned forward. Grabbing the table for support, he started up.

"No!" Connor seized Hank's arm. Hank's eyes narrowed at the android.

"Jesus Connor, what's wrong?!"

"Don't drink. It's bad for your health."

Hank snorted, "no shit, Sherlock." Yanking his arm free, he made his way to the fridge.

Connor swallowed thickly. Anxiously he chewed on his lower lip. The closer Hank got to pulling a beer out, the harder he bit down. With a grunt, Hank slammed the fridge shut. Beverage in hand, Hank returned to his seat. At the sound of the beer cracking open Connor bit down as hard as he could.

A look of alarm crossed Hank's face. "You're fucking bleeding!" The android became increasingly aware of the thirium dribbling freely from his bottom lip.

"It's okay. The wound should heal shortly." Connor swiped at the blood, smudging it across his chin and left cheek.

"You're just making it worse." Hank stood up. "Stay there. I'll be right back." Before Connor could respond, Hank had already left the kitchen.

A loud crash, followed by equally loud curses filled the house. Connor craned his neck towards the noise. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Hank called back. Connor relaxed in his seat. Not long after Hank came bounding in, first aid in hand.

Connor looked from the kit to Hank. He wondered if Hank knew that first aid kits were mostly useless for androids. He wanted to ask, but as Hank dabbed gently at his lip, eyes soft as they looked Connor over for any discomfort, he couldn't bring himself to tell him.

Hank hummed a vaguely familiar tune. If Connor focused hard enough, he could probably name the tune. Judging by Hank's music tastes it could be anything from rock 'n roll to jazz. The rhythm suggests a rock song, but the beat points to something softer, maybe something from the late-60s.

The first-aid kit snaps close, and the humming stops. "Connor?" Hank asked, voice quiet. "How do you feel?"

"I feel better, thank you."

"No problem."

"Do you, by any chance, own a board game?" Connor cocked his head to the side.

"That's fuckin' random, but yes I do."

"Can we play one?"

Hank snorted, "only if you change outta those obnoxious ass clothes."

Connor eyed his outfit. The CyberLife issued uniform, really the only thing Connor owns. And even he couldn't be certain of that. "What's wrong with my clothes?" He tries his best to not sound offend.

"You look like a fuckin' narc."

Well, when put like that how could Connor argue. "Yeah……"

"Go find some clothes in my room. I'll find a game for us to play, alright?"

"Alright." Connor rose to his feet.

"It's down the hall to the left."

\--

Connor managed to find a pair of sweat pants that were only a little big and a blue oversized sweater. The sleeves had to be rolled up, but he had to admit it was pretty damn comfortable.

Satisfied with his haul. Connor padded back out into the hallway. The living room light was on.

"Connect Four," he read over Hank's shoulder.

Hank flinched, "Jesus Christ. Announce your presence every once and a while, why doncha?"

"Sorry," though Connor didn't feel the tiniest bit apologetic. Hank glanced over his shoulder at the android. "You found clothes."

"Nope, didn't find any clothes."

"Well, that sucks." Hank patted the spot next to him. "Sit."

Connor took his seat. "So…...Connect Four, how do we play?" It would take milliseconds to search his databases for all available information, but he wanted Hank to explain all the rules.

"Pick a color."

"Rainbow."

"Rainbow isn't a color," Hank quirks a smile.

"No, but it's a lot of colors." Connor cocks his head. "Fine, I choose yellow."

"Alright, then I'll be red. Since you're younger you'll go first. Put the yellow chip into an empty slot."

The chip fell to the bottom of the board with a clank. Connor looked up to Hank for his turn.

\--

"This was a bad idea," Connor groaned. He had lost three times in a row. It had been half-an-hour since they had put the game away, and Hank was still gloating. Connor vowed to cheat at the next game night.

Hank had gone to clean himself up at Connor's insistence. Sumo took his place on the couch. The Saint Bernard had took it upon himself to take up any available space, including Connor's lap.

Mindlessly, Connor stroked Sumo's fur. Despite there being at least ten feet and a wall between them, Connor could still feel Hank's smugness at beating an android. Although his pride was wounded; it felt nice that he had made Hank happy.

Giving an exaggerated sigh, Connor slumped back against the couch. Sumo groaned at the sudden action. "Sorry, Sumo," Connor said.

The quietness of the room, intermixed with the distant sound of Hank's whistling, put the android at ease. For the first time in a long time, Connor was confident things would be okay.

……..And then the ticking started.


End file.
